


Totally Gross and Extremely Lame

by purple_bookcover



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Siblings, ashe and dedue's siblings, ashedueweek, nice dads ashe and dedue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23516872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_bookcover/pseuds/purple_bookcover
Summary: Ashe and Dedue are doing their best looking after their siblings. But they could use a little time for themselves, as well.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 14
Kudos: 36





	Totally Gross and Extremely Lame

**Author's Note:**

> This is just fluff. *shrug* I know it's vaguely mentioned in-game that Dedue has siblings. I made up a little sister named Milli for the sake of this story. 
> 
> Ashedue Week Day 2: Prompt: Siblings/Modern AU

**Ashe**

“You have your books?” 

“Yes, Ashe.”

“OK, what about your lunch? You didn't forget it, did you?”

“No, we have it.”

“OK, I'll come back right at 3:30. Don't get in any other cars.”

“Duh, Ashe.”

“Have a good day. Pay attention. Take notes. Don't let anyone tell you there's a pool on the roof.”

“Ashe!” Fina took him by the shoulders. “We're gonna be fine. Chill.” 

Ashe sighed. “I know. I just...”

“Can't stop worrying about us?” Rowan supplied. “Like, all the time?” 

Ashe tried not to sigh again. They were right, of course, but that didn't make any of his anxieties fade away. 

The twins shared a glance and an eye roll Ashe knew all too well. Fina took his hand. 

“Ashe, we're well older than you were when you started looking after us,” she said. “It's just a change of schools. We're gonna be fine.” 

“Yeah,” Rowan chimed in. “Don't be late to work because you're fretting about us.” 

“If you're going to fret either way,” Fina said, “you might as well do it without being late.” 

Ashe smiled, shaking his head at his siblings. They were so grown up, so mature. 

Not that any of them had had much choice about growing up quickly. Still, Ashe did what he could to let them be kids. 

Despite his efforts, they often struggled to get along with classmates. They'd left few friends behind at their old high school. The troubles of the average teenager just rang hollow for Rowan and Fina.

But this was a fresh start for all of them. A new part of town. A new school. A new apartment that Ashe could afford better even on the wages of a retail worker and server. Both jobs kept him on his feet all day, often leaving him so exhausted that he could do little more in the evening than reheat leftovers and wish his siblings goodnight. 

It would all be worth it when they graduated in a few years. They were both so bright, so naturally, intuitively intelligent. They could go to college, have careers doing something impressive, live the type of lives that were well out of Ashe's reach.

He smiled as he drove to work. He didn't mind the hardships, the sacrifices, the lack of any real social life for himself outside of seeing his siblings. Not so long as Rowan and Fina got the lives they deserved.

#

**Dedue**

Dedue grazed his fingertips over bright red lockers. 628, 629, 630. And then 631, his locker, a lifetime ago. He wondered if any of the stickers he'd plastered along the inside were still there, still lurking beneath layers of new stickers from new generations of high school students.

“Sir, may I help you?” 

The woman at the end of the hall looked like a teacher. She wore a cardigan and an expression of mingled distrust and anxiety. 

“No,” he said. “Just making my way to the concert.” 

Her smile was uncertain. “Are you a ... parent?”

“Guardian,” he said. “Brother.” 

“I see.”

“I know the way,” he said. 

The woman seemed relieved when he stopped wandering the halls and joined the queue of parents and siblings waiting to enter the theater hall. Dedue ended up seated near the back, between a family of four and another of three. He stood out, conspicuously alone. 

He was used to it. He'd been Milli's guardian since she was in kindergarten and had always looked too young for it. 

Dedue smiled when his sister stepped onto the stage with the rest of the school's concert band. The flute gleaming in her hands had cost him considerably, but it was well worth it to see her become so talented at something she loved so much. He'd work all the extra shifts all over if he had to do it again. 

Sadly, not every student was as talented as his little sister. Dedue enjoyed what he could of the performance, but that mostly meant focusing on his sister and carefully suppressing his winces as other students hit wildly wrong notes.

After the show, when Milli emerged, beaming, her flute case tucked under her arm, he whispered, “You are more skilled than your classmates.”

She slapped his arm. “Dedue! Don't be rude.” But she was smiling even as she chided him. It warmed him to see her looking so happy, her green eyes bright, dark cheeks faintly flushed. The careful braid he'd plaited into her hair before the show still lay neatly down her back.

“Let's get home,” he said. “It's late.”

“Hold on,” she said. “I want you to meet my friends.”

“Your friends?”

She planted her hands on her hips. “Yeah, you know, friends. People who like you. You could use one or two yourself.” 

He might have retorted, but she spun away then, flagging down a couple students in the hall. The teens who ran up to Milli were nearly identical with their bright green eyes, prominent freckles and pale skin. Dedue mostly told them apart by the way one's hair stood up in a spiky unkempt clump while the other's hung smooth and straight to her waist. 

“This is Rowan and Fina,” Milli said. “I told you about them.”

Dedue nodded. He recognized the names, vaguely. He hadn't stored them away as anything more significant than other kids in school. 

“Nice to meet you,” Dedue said.

“You're tall,” the boy said. 

“Rowan!” His sister punched his arm. 

“What?” Rowan said. “It's just true. Am I wrong?”

“No, but that's not the point.” 

He let them go on, but the hall was starting to clear out, other families leaving now that the concert was over. He turned, looking toward the exit, wondering when he should force Milli to stop chatting and leave. 

A man was running toward them. Dedue knew instantly he was related to the silver-haired teens. They might have been triplets, if the man wasn't so obviously older.

“Rowan, Fina, there you are,” the man said. “I thought you left. I was so worried.” 

Rowan rolled his eyes. Fina shrugged.

“We were just talking to Milli,” Fina said. 

“Well, I didn't know that. You could have been anywhere.”

“Ashe, can you seriously chill?” Rowan said. 

“No,” the man said. “I cannot 'seriously chill.' Can you two stop disappearing on me?” 

“Gods, it's like you really are our father,” Rowan said. 

“Anyway,” Fina cut in. “This is Milli. And this is...” The teen looked at Dedue, waiting.

“Dedue,” he said.

The man blinked as though noticing him for the first time. He extended a hand. “Ashe. I'm so sorry if they were bothering you.”

Dedue shook Ashe's hand. “It was no bother. Apparently, they are friends.”

Ashe nodded. “So I've heard.” He turned to Milli. “It's good to finally meet you, Milli. I've heard you're quite the flutist.” 

“I'm OK,” Milli said.

“She is being modest,” Dedue said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“I'm sure she--” A yawn interrupted Ashe, one he apparently had no power to suppress. “I'm so sorry. Came here right from work. Which reminds me, we're all up early again tomorrow. We really should get going.” 

The teens bid each other reluctant goodbyes, Dedue and Ashe exchanging polite nods. 

Later, in the car on the way home, Milli said, “What'd you think?”

“Of?”

“The Uberts.” 

Dedue supposed she meant Ashe and Fina and Rowan. “They seem nice. I'm glad you have friends.”

She sighed. “No, but I mean, what do you _really_ think?”

He paused, utterly lost. 

Then, she added: “They're like us, you know.”

“Like us?”

“Yeah,” she said. “It's just them. Ashe is the older brother but he takes care of Rowan and Fina. Just like us.”

“I see,” Dedue said.

“I thought you two might get along,” Milli said. “You could have a friend.” 

“Oh?”

“Yes,” Milli said. “You should invite them all over some day. Oh! Could I though? Maybe Friday. You could make that thing with the noodles and the layers.”

“Lasagna?” 

“Yeah, that one. It's good. What do you think?” 

He didn't respond and she went on, rambling about deserts they could share, movies they could watch, games they could play. Dedue didn't bother listening to most of it. Once Milli got an idea in her head, it usually turned into a dream far too grand for reality. 

Still, maybe she was right. Maybe he could use a friend.

#

**Ashe**

Ashe clutched the glassware in his arms. It had cost him a night off from the restaurant and a bit of baking to be here now, but Rowan and Fina nearly bounced with excitement as they knocked at the door to the apartment. 

Milli answered. All three teens vanished in a flurry of chatter and laughter. 

“Please, come in,” Dedue said in his sister's wake. 

Ashe stepped inside, kicking off his shoes. “I brought a pie.”

Dedue accepted it, peaking under the tin foil. “It is square.”

“Heh, yeah, we only had a square baking dish left.” 

Dedue's eyebrows rose. “You made this yourself?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Ashe said. “I mean, it's rude to show up with nothing, right?” 

“Not at all,” Dedue said. “You are our guests. But thank you.” 

Ashe smiled. There was something about the man's bluntness, his lack of any facade, that made Ashe instantly relaxed in his presence. 

He followed Dedue into a neat little apartment. The teens were huddled on the couch, flashing through TV channels and their phones. On a kitchen table just behind them, plates and cups and cutlery were already set out. Ashe could smell something full of tomato sauce and cheese baking in the kitchenette separated by a low wall. 

“That smells amazing,” Ashe said. “Do you need any help?”

“I wouldn't want to trouble you,” Dedue said.

“It's no trouble,” Ashe said. “I mean, what am I gonna do instead? Talk to them about Snapface filters?” 

Dedue's lips twisted as though he was suppressing a laugh. “I believe it is called 'Snaptalk.'” 

“Is it? I can't really keep up with that stuff.”

“Me neither.” Dedue's lips relaxed into the smile they'd been containing. “Come, we can finish the last few things and get dinner ready.”

Ashe was only too happy to be in the kitchen, a realm he understood, a place where he felt comfortable and in control. It didn't hurt that this Dedue fellow had such a calm air about him. They hardly talked, but soon fell into an easy rhythm nonetheless. 

Ashe was almost sad to see the meal completed. Though, when he finally sat to eat, his stomach gurgled to make its own complaints known. 

The meal could have put the stuff he served four nights a week at the restaurant to shame. He told Dedue as much while his mouth was still full of lasagna.

“It is just a hobby,” Dedue said. 

Rowan laughed. “That's what Ashe always says too, but wait 'til you try that pie he brought. Insane.”

“I look forward to it.” 

Ashe scrubbed at his mouth with a napkin to hide the twinge of heat that prickled his cheeks. “It's nothing that special. Don't get your hopes up too high.” 

“Well, I will start the oven and we'll find out,” Dedue said. 

Ashe helped him clear off the table and do just that. Then they joined their siblings in the living room. The teens were huddled on the couch, legs draped lazily over each other as they fiddled with their phones. 

Dedue pulled over the kitchen chairs for himself and Ashe, setting them close together. So close that when they both sat, their knees bumped. 

Ashe scooted away. “Oh, I'm sorry. I...”

“It is...” Dedue said. “I apologize.” 

They shuffled the chairs apart. Ashe sat with his hands in his lap. But when the movie began – Death Cabin 5 or something equally vapid – he found his mind struggling to cling to the thin thread of the film's plot. More often, his thoughts wandered, a voice in the back of his head nudging him to “accidentally” scoot closer to Dedue again.

 _Stop it,_ he chided himself. This was ridiculous. Sure, it had been a while. A very long while, if he was being honest. But that was no excuse for acting so absolutely pathetic in front of Rowan and Fina's friend. Perhaps their only friend. This was important for them. He couldn't let himself ruin it because ... because he was lonely ... because working six days a week left him drained body and soul ... because the last time anyone had touched him had been so long ago he barely remembered their name.

He jerked to his feet. “The pie.” 

Ashe rushed to the kitchen, throwing open the oven and rescuing the browning pie. 

“Is it OK?” 

Dedue's voice was so close that Ashe startled. Startled right into him. 

Dedue caught Ashe's shoulders in his steady hands. “Careful. It's hot.” 

“Y-yeah,” Ashe said. He set the pie down on top of the oven, afraid his trembling hands would fumble it. He closed the oven, turned it off, set aside the mitts. Then Ashe just stood there, trying to catch his breath and clear his swirling head. 

“Is it OK?” Dedue said again. 

Ashe blinked. “Oh gods. Uh. Yes, I think so. A little crispy. But … Oh, I'm really sorry.” 

Dedue just smiled. “Don't worry. I was nodding off a bit during that movie as well. Shall we?”

Dedue got out a knife and started cutting the pie into squares. It looked a bit odd, but when Dedue scooped five slices out onto plates, it smelled incredible. The fruit Ashe had stuffed inside oozed out. The crust held firm. The syrup smelled sweet. 

The teens certainly didn't have any complaints. Their slices disappeared nearly as soon as Dedue and Ashe delivered them. 

Ashe ate more slowly. It was nice to have something to focus on, something besides … well, besides the minor bout of madness that seemed to have consumed his thoughts all of a sudden. 

By the end of the pie, and the evening, Ashe was feeling steady enough to pack up his siblings and bid the Molinaros a reasonable, and platonic, farewell. 

“They're nice, huh?” Rowan said when they got home.

“Yes, very,” Ashe said. “Milli is a lovely girl.” 

“And Dedue is pretty handsome, don't you think?” Fina said.

Ashe felt his whole face flush. “Fina!”

“What? It's not like I'm wrong.” 

Rowan was laughing, holding his middle. “Oh no, Ashe, you're so obvious! He probably already knows.” 

“That's _enough_ ,” Ashe said, trying to sound stern, but his siblings' laughter chased him all the way back to his bedroom where he buried his red face in a pillow.

#

**Dedue**

“He left his baking pan.” 

Dedue pulled the glassware out of the dishwasher. He turned, looking over his shoulder to where Milli sat on the couch. “Milli, Mr. Ubert left his dish. Return it to his siblings on Monday, OK?” 

“Return it to him yourself,” she called back. “Also, 'Mr. Ubert' is gross. It makes him sound ancient.” 

“He is an adult. You ought to address him properly.”

She shrugged. “Do you really want Rowan and Fina calling you 'Mr. Molinaro?'” She waited a beat. “Yeah, that's what I thought. Just call him Ashe. Don't be a weirdo.” 

Dedue sighed. “Fine. _Ashe_ left his dish. Return it to him.”

She turned all the way around on the couch to look him dead in the eyes. “I already told you: Return it to him yourself.”

“And how would I do that, Milli? They're your friends.”

“He could be your friend,” she said. “Like you said, he's an _adult._ So are you. Get some friends your own age, old man.” 

Dedue shook his head. As though he had time for friends. “And how do you propose I contact him?” 

She was looking down at her phone, typing furiously. It buzzed and she grinned, turning it to face him. “Ashe's number. Next excuse.” 

Dedue was beginning to suspect his dear little sister was trying to set him up, but he jotted down the number anyway. It couldn't hurt just to text and offer the man his dish back. Nothing weird about that. 

But when Dedue put the number in his phone and started to write the text, he found himself at a loss for words. Why was it so hard to offer Ashe his own property? It was just a dish. Dedue could drop it off. No, that was too personal. He could let Ashe swing by. No, that was an imposition. Ashe probably didn't have time. In the end, exasperated and at a loss, Dedue simply texted:

_I have your dish._

Goddess, he sounded like a kidnapper. He got no response and shoved his phone aside, trying to go about the rest of his Saturday without thinking too hard about the awkwardness he'd just created.

It wasn't until evening that his phone finally buzzed.

_Oh! That's where it went._

_..._

Ashe was typing more. Dedue didn't realize he was fixated on those three quivering dots until they suddenly stopped. Had Ashe been about to say something and then taken it back? Then more text appeared.

_Tomorrow is my day off. Could I swing by and grab it?_

Dedue's mouth went dry. Swing by. Swing by? 

_Yes,_ he typed far too quickly. Could Ashe hear the eagerness in that one, simple word? Dedue hoped not. 

_What time is good?_

_Any._

Could he be less awful at this? Any? What did that even mean?

_How about 2?_

_Sounds good._

But more than “good,” it sounded, frankly, terrifying. 

Dedue fretted about it the rest of the day, tossed and turned thinking of it that night, oscillated between “it's just a dish” and “what if it's not?” so quickly he could hardly keep up with his own thoughts. 

And so when he heard a knock at the door the next day he startled, nearly dropping the book he'd been attempting to read. He blinked, realizing he'd been staring at the same page for the past hour. 

Dedue took a deep breath, set the book aside, told himself to stop acting like a fool. But when he opened the door, his chest clenched at the sight of Ashe standing there. 

“The … dish?” Ashe said, breaking the awkward silence.

“Oh, yes.” Dedue stood aside. “Please, come in. I'm sorry. It's just in the drying rack.” 

“You cleaned it?” 

Dedue trailed Ashe to the kitchen. “I didn't notice it was still here until after I'd washed it,” he explained.

Ashe found the dish. He held it against him as he faced Dedue. “Well, I appreciate it. You didn't have to go to all that trouble. It was my fault for forgetting it.”

“No trouble,” Dedue said. 

“Well.” 

They remained there, staring at each other in the kitchen, Ashe clutching the dish to his chest. Was he nervous? Was Dedue so obvious? Was it making Ashe feel awkward for coming here? 

“I should--”

“Would you like--”

They both stopped. 

“Sorry,” Ashe said. “You go.”

“I...” Dedue swallowed. “I was going to ask if you'd like something to drink. Or … or to sit a minute.” 

Ashe froze. For a moment, he was so still Dedue truly feared he'd scared the man, been too blunt and forward with what he'd meant merely as a friendly offer.

“Sure,” Ashe said. 

“Oh.” Dedue was caught off guard. “Ah, yes. Um, what could I get you? We have, uh, well...” 

He opened the fridge. Ashe leaned down to peer inside it with him. 

“To be honest,” Ashe said, his voice so very close now, “I could go for a beer.” 

Dedue was grateful for the cool air coming out of the fridge. He grabbed a mostly-full six pack from the back of a shelf. “Is this OK? It's all I have right now.” 

“Yeah, that's great.” 

Ashe set the dish on the counter and took a beer instead. Dedue went to get a bottle opener but by the time he turned around Ashe already had the cap off.

Ashe laughed. “A trick I learned when I was younger. I was a bit of a delinquent, I guess.”

Dedue found that difficult to believe, but even in the short time he'd known him, he'd learned to be surprised by Ashe. 

Dedue got his own beer open, then nodded at the other room. They settled on the couch, sitting as far apart as they reasonably could. 

“Where's Milli today?” Ashe said.

“The mall,” Dedue said. 

Ashe's smile turned wry. 

“Do you disapprove?” Dedue said. 

“No, it's not that,” Ashe said. “Just … memories.”

Dedue cocked his head to the side.

Ashe took a long swig of beer before continuing. “When I said I was a delinquent when I was younger, I mean it. I was a real delinquent. I, uh, stole quite a bit. And the mall was usually an easy mark.” 

Dedue's eyebrows shot up his face. 

“It was necessary, mostly,” Ashe said, “but I'd be lying if I said I didn't sometimes enjoy it. I don't do it anymore, of course. It was just … a matter of survival for a little while.”

“I understand.”

Ashe watched him, seeming to weigh whether Dedue really did, or could, understand. 

“Milli and I have been on our own for a long time,” Dedue said. “We lived with an uncle for a time, but he was not a kind man. The moment I could, I dropped out of school and got a job so we could get away from him. But it meant I had to take many jobs, some I'm not proud of. And we had to eat whatever we could, whatever we could find. If that meant a grocery store's thrown out leftovers, so be it.”

“I'm so sorry,” Ashe said. 

Dedue shrugged. “There's no point in being sorry. We survived, as did you. And things are better now.”

“They are,” Ashe said. 

Ashe smiled, but there was a weariness that clung around his eyes. Dedue wished he could brush it away. 

Ashe set down his empty beer.

“Another?” Dedue said. 

Ashe seemed to contemplate the empty bottle. His eyes looked far away for a moment; he smiled at something Dedue could not perceive. 

Then he looked back over at Dedue. “Yeah, I'd like that.”

#

**Ashe**

For a man of so few words, Dedue was incredibly easy to talk to.

Ashe's nerves melted away as one drink turned into two and their conversation stretched on and on. Cooking, gardening, history: It seemed like there was nothing Dedue didn't have some vast, secret vault of knowledge on. 

Ashe startled when the door to the apartment clicked and a burst of chatter interrupted their quiet talk.

“Dedue, oh my gods, you have to hear about--” 

Milli stopped short in the living room, her eyebrows shooting up as she took in the sight of Ashe on the couch with her brother.

“Oh,” she said. 

“Hello again, Milli,” Ashe said. “I was just...”

“He forgot his dish,” Dedue supplied.

Milli was smiling like a cat with a mouse in her mouth. “Sure he did.”

“Milli,” Dedue said, a warning undercutting his words.

The teen rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Hello, Ashe. Nice to see you. I'll be going now.”

She skipped off to her bedroom, throwing the door shut. Ashe could hear her on her phone an instant later. “No, he's totally _here_. Yeah. Right now. In the living room. How did you not realize your own brother wasn't home?” 

The awkwardness they'd carefully smoothed away over the course of hours returned in a rush. Ashe jerked to his feet. “It sounds like Rowan and Fina are looking for me,” he said.

Dedue stood as well. “Yes, I suppose.” 

Was that … was that regret in his voice? 

“Thank you for the beers,” Ashe said.

Ashe headed for the door, getting his shoes and coat.

“Can you drive?” Dedue said, following him to the door. 

“Oh, yeah,” Ashe said. “I finished that last one probably...” He glanced at his phone. “Wow, an hour ago? Has it been that long? I didn't even notice.”

Ashe flushed even as he said it. He'd probably long overstayed his welcome.

But Dedue said, “I didn't notice either.”

Ashe blinked. “Oh.” 

They froze in the doorway, each watching the other. Ashe felt bolted to the floor, his jacket hanging off one arm. 

Dedue cleared his throat. He took a step away, the distance instantly causing a wash of both relief and regret in Ashe. 

“Your dish,” Dedue said. 

“Oh!” 

Ashe couldn't seem to manage more than single syllables anymore. And he'd forgotten the dish. The dish that was supposedly the entire reason he was here. 

Dedue retreated to the kitchen, returning an instant later with the dish. He handed it to Ashe, who held it to his chest, a comforting weight for his hammering heart to press against. 

But Dedue still felt so close. He still loitered there within Ashe's reach. And a flimsy piece of glassware wasn't nearly enough to keep Ashe's heart from leaping into his throat. 

“I--”

“Could--”

They spoke at once, then stopped abruptly.

“Sorry, you go,” Ashe said.

“No, it's nothing,” Dedue said.

“Oh,” Ashe said. “OK...”

Perhaps Dedue picked up the note of disappointment in Ashe's voice because he went on: “I just thought … that perhaps we could speak more. It was … enjoyable.” 

The drumbeats in Ashe's chest could have shattered the pie dish just then. “Y-yes. I mean, yes, of course. That would be great.” _Too eager! Geeze. Calm down already._

“I'm sure you're quite busy...” Dedue said.

“Well, what about a week from today?” Ashe said. “I always have this day off so ... if you wanted to...”

“OK,” Dedue said.

“We could … go out,” Ashe said. “I-I-I mean, not 'go out' go out. Just go out … somewhere. To a place. Not a place. A bar. Or … or wherever.” 

“OK.”

“OK,” Ashe said. “I'll text.”

Dedue nodded. He looked bored? Irritated? Scared? Ashe wasn't sure, but he knew that he had to leave then, had to extricate himself before he could make matters worse and overstay his welcome even further. 

They made hasty goodbyes and Ashe slipped out of the apartment, still hugging the dish to his chest. 

He let out a sigh as soon as the door shut behind him. The solitude of the hallway was like a bucket of cold water to the face. But it left behind an awful clarity about how stupid and fumbling he'd sounded for most of this afternoon. Evening? Oh goddess, what time was it?

Ashe was just taking out his phone to check when he heard the apartment door open again. He turned and found Dedue in the hallway, oddly flushed as though he'd been running. 

Dedue's throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I want to … I want to 'go out' go out. With you.” 

Ashe's eyes went wide. The glassware in his arms creaked from strain.

“I apologize if that is too forward,” Dedue said. 

Ashe stood frozen, watching. His mouth fell open, but he could not summon the breath to speak.

Dedue reddened. “I'm sorry. That was odd. I … I won't bother you anymore.” 

He began to turn back toward his apartment.

“Wait.” The word emerged on its own, surprising Ashe as much as Dedue. 

Dedue faced him slowly, timidly. 

“I...” Ashe said. “I want to go out with you, too. For real. Like on a … a date.” 

Dedue swallowed again. “OK.” 

“Alright.”

Ashe's feet started moving, carrying him toward Dedue. They didn't stop until Ashe was mere inches from the other man. 

Ashe tried to find words. Something elegant or inspired or witty or sweet. But for a long moment he just stood there staring at Dedue, meeting his soft green eyes. 

He didn't know who moved first. Perhaps they moved at the same time, like the sun sinking to meet the horizon, slow and inexorable. Ashe closed his eyes. Then, all other senses were replaced with the brush of Dedue's lips against his, the warmth of his presence suddenly all around Ashe. Beneath the bitterness of the beer was something essentially Dedue, soft and gentle and timid and bright. Ashe savored it like he would a fine wine, let the intoxication of that kiss seep through his body, warming him to the tips of his fingers and toes. 

They heard a click and broke apart with a jerk.

Milli stood in the doorway, her phone held up before her. “Shit! I thought it was on silent.” 

Ashe's face flushed with heat.

“Milli,” Dedue said. “What are you--” 

The teen just smirked at them. “ _Totally_ sending this to Rowan and Fina.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover) (18+ please).
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!


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